The Inevitability of Joy
by Rennwood Phoenix
Summary: "You died. Three months ago." Her voice hitched and she clutched his good hand like a lifeline. "A building collapsed . . . Should have killed Mack instead . . . Because he didn't make it to the Lighthouse . . . But we broke the loop . . ." (the team heals and rebuilds, and everyone seeks their happily ever after)


_The Inevitability of Joy_

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"Mack . . ."

He looked up from the hand clenched tightly in his. The cold metal of the wedding band pressed into his palm.

"I think my leg is broken . . ."

Mack couldn't breathe. He clenched the hand so hard, he wondered if he broke even that. Another broken piece of a shattered body.

"You've been through worse," he whispered, his breath rattling.

The hand shook.

Rocks drove their way into Mack's knees. Dust clouded his vision. Or were they tears?

Everything was eerily quiet.

Shattered lungs rasped for breath.

Blood pooled in the ridges of the metal that jutted out like a blade.

The hand clenched his in return . . . Then went completely limp.

Mack choked back a heaving sob.

Fitz's head fell to the side. His right hand dropped with a thud. He exhaled.

Mack waited . . . but the man never inhaled.

May's sobs broke the hollow silence.

* * *

Coulson's clear head and calm voice saved them all.

Jemma had forgotten how Fitz traveled to the future. It didn't come up in many conversations, since the simple fact was that he made it safely. When they broke the loop, it didn't change the other fact that there was still a version of her husband, frozen, floating in space with Enoch.

Of course, he wouldn't remember anything.

She and Coulson mourned that.

She would have to tell him about the proposals, the wedding, and their grandson. She would not tell him about the fear rift, the psychic split, or how Daisy swore never to forgive him. Fitz and Daisy, as far as he knew, were best friends.

"It's alright," Coulson reminded them. "He's waiting for us. He'll be happy to know we saved the world."

Jemma almost smiled through her tears.

He would be relieved. At first.

And perhaps it was for the best anyway. The more he didn't know about the past weeks, the better. The only important part was the he was alive and well and the world was still whole.

* * *

The search took a total of three months.

They had estimated six months, based on their lack of knowledge of his whereabouts.

But surprisingly, it was Enoch who contacted them first.

The Chronicom had remembered the Zephyr and how to find it, and had somehow noticed that the Earth stayed in one piece. He apparently put two and two together, and put out a signal to certain frequencies with the message, "Leopold Fitz is waiting."

It took them a week for Daisy to track the signal (she insisted it would have taken Fitz half that time), and a week to fly there. Enoch was already en route back to Earth.

* * *

Two months before they docked on Enoch's ship, Jemma made a discovery.

It happened one day while she sat, eating something she considered perfectly normal.

As her fork dug into the next bite of chocolate-covered crisps with strawberry sauce, oats, and lemon sherbet, Daisy walked by and wrinkled her nose.

"There is no way you are actually eating that," she remarked.

Jemma looked up. Of course she was eating it, why wouldn't she? "I don't know what you mean."

Daisy raised an eyebrow. "That is not a normal-person thing." She sat across the table, her hands smacking the surface playfully. "You have had the weirdest cravings, and don't think I haven't heard you in the bathroom in the mornings. Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

Jemma let out a dismissive laugh. "Me? Daisy. I think," she chuckled, "I would know."

The other girl was silent but completely unbelieving.

"And," Simmons continued, "if I were expecting, I would be . . ." Her determination wavered. "I would be almost six weeks along." She frowned.

Daisy grinned.

But Jemma was not as ecstatic as her friend . . . She couldn't think without Fitz. And he was not here to share the joy, so why should she be excited?

* * *

Pregnancy tests were easy.

Jemma's was not.

Her throat felt like a wad of cotton had been lodged in her windpipe. She asked Mack to draw blood for her, and she only shed two tears during the process.

She walked numbly to her makeshift desk which was still in the lab on the Zephyr. Inserting her samples into the tray, she tried not to think about who should be at her side through this process.

The results showed on the screen.

Jemma cupped a hand over her mouth.

She didn't leave the lab for another hour. Curled up on the floor was how Daisy found her later, fully prepared with a bag of pretzels, tissues, and a warm hug.

Jemma forced a smile. "I suppose," she finally managed, her chin quivering, "Fitz and I are going to be parents."

Daisy squeezed her friend's shoulders harder. "Jemma, this is so crazy. In a good way. And I know you're overwhelmed but take it slow. You still have, like, eight months."

Sniffling, Jemma corrected her. "Seven, actually. I'm already eight weeks along."

"Okay, so you have seven months to be ready. You're great at preparation and everything."

"But . . ." She couldn't shake one thought. "What will Fitz think?"

Daisy grinned. "You'll probably have to break it to him slow. But he is going to understand right away. He's a genius, remember? And he is going to be absolutely through the roof. You'll have to go pull him off of cloud nine or something."

Jemma smiled.

"And, listen to me. We've talked about this." Daisy could almost read her friend's mind. "We will all get him through whatever demons are in his head, and he will make an amazing dad."

Wiping away fresh tears, Jemma bit her lip. "It's a bit hard to imagine. But he will be wonderful."

Daisy nodded in firm agreement.

* * *

Since that one day just a few weeks ago, Daisy had never dreamed about forgiving Fitz.

What he did to her was so absolutely contrary to the Fitz she knew and loved, that she was unable to see that side of him as anything but unforgivable and simply evil.

Surprisingly, it was Yo-yo of all people who finally changed her mind.

She talked with Daisy about timelines and change, and letting things go. She reminded Daisy that this Fitz who was waiting for them had no idea what he did or what he was capable of. In the Framework, he did terrible things. But in real life . . . Well, they all knew how pure and thoughtful and caring he really was.

They just had to help him remember.

Instead of swearing never to forgive him, Daisy would make sure the situation never arose where that side (the Doctor . . . she shuddered) would have a chance to appear.

And now it was even more important, because he was going to be a father.

Well, not him, but his counterpart who was also him, so technically it would be his baby.

And it (or she) would also be Deke's mother.

The Fitzsimmonses were a complicated family, Daisy decided, even worse than her own.

* * *

The whole team had quite a bit of reconciling to do. It would take years to come to grips with, but the one deciding factor in their hope was that neither the framework nor that dreaded apocalyptic loop existed anymore. All that existed was in their minds . . . The doubt, the distrust, the wariness and anger toward even their closest friends.

Another piece that boosted everyone's spirits toward recovery was the news of Jemma's pregnancy.

Much like the Fitzsimmons' wedding, it was a beacon of light that brightened their hopes of, in this case, mental recovery and a sense of normalcy.

Everyone tripled their efforts in their quest to find Fitz, even going so far as to enlist the aid of NASA, at least for a short period of time, and under fake identities and phone calls only.

Each member of the team had a part in Jemma's care, though she insisted she was fine, not dead or dying, and "not sick, just pregnant."

Nonetheless, Elena saw to her food supply and rations, Mack offered moral support and medical assistance, Daisy held her hair back in the wee morning hours and assured her that this would pass, and even Agent Davis, having a wife and child of his own, helped Jemma through the separation from her husband, and acted as a pseudo-father, in a unique way, by explaining the emotional aspects of a pregnancy, preventing her from working too much, and making sure she slept enough.

But even with all her friends around her, Jemma often laid in bed, clutching one of Fitz's cardigans, staring into the dark, and sobbing herself to sleep.

* * *

Three weeks before they reached Enoch's ship, they received a transmission from Earth.

The whole team gathered around the Zephyr's main control screen. Static crackled in the speakers, but all of a sudden a very familiar face appeared, smirking proudly.

"Deke!" Jemma exclaimed.

Daisy's mouth gaped. "We thought you died, how . . . How are you not like, vanished?"

"Honestly I'm not sure, it's a long story," Deke admitted. He took a deep breath. "I heard what happened to Fitz. Sorry, guys."

Jemma smiled. "It's alright. He's waiting for us."

Her grandson's face lit up like a bulb. "Heard about that too. Oh yeah, also, I have a surprise for you all." Deke backed up, and another figure stepped into the frame.

"Sounds like you need some help," Melinda May said, eyebrows raised and a grin on her lips.

Surprise audibly swept through the team and they cheered like a little-league baseball team.

But the implications of May's presence sobered them. They had almost come to grips with Coulson's death, but the pain was still raw.

"How are you?" Mack asked bravely.

May's eyes flashed through a range of emotions. But she settled on acceptance. "As well as I thought I'd be." She paused a moment, then said, "He wanted to be cremated. I brought the ashes to Wisconsin."

"To his family," Daisy finished. She seemed to choke on her words. "I'm sorry we couldn't be there."

"You know what he wanted," May affirmed. "He said goodbye, there was nothing more for you to do."

* * *

The day Coulson stepped onto the beach in Tahiti, Daisy found a folder in her bunk.

She remembered how he said he had left a note for her.

Her hands shook as she clutched the paper, unfolding the metal clasp, and pulling out a thick pile of legal documents.

She didn't know what to expect. She pulled off the top page, and what she saw made her completely freeze up.

On the top of the paper, in a bold font, stood the words, "Legal Form for Adult Adoption as Mandated by the State of Wisconsin."

There was a signature at the bottom of each page: "Phillip Coulson," scrawled in thick black ink, the letters leaning too far to the right.

One more signature waited, the dotted line inviting and more of a blessing than she could explain.

For the first time in her life, Daisy had a family she loved and who loved her equally. She felt wanted, welcomed, and important. SHIELD had given her that from the beginning, and now she had a firm tie. It didn't matter that Coulson was dying; for a few days they would be a family whether she saw him or not.

He had been more of a father to her than Cal ever could. He was her rescuer, her protector, her confidant, her mentor, her comfort, and her firm foundation in a world that pitted everything it had against both of them.

This gift of his was complicated to explain. Daisy could never, ever have asked for a better goodbye from her . . . What? Best friend? Mentor?

No, her father. Really, in every single sense of the word except in actual blood.

Her father. Such a wild concept. She finally got to call Phillip Coulson her father.

Daisy let herself fall on her side, careful not to bend any pages, and sobbed.

* * *

May and Deke joined the team on the Zephyr three days after their call.

Since airspace wasn't as restricted over Antarctica, the Zephyr landed there for a bit, while May and Deke made their way by quinjet.

"It's so cold," Daisy commented.

The land was bare, and blindingly white. Not a cloud was in the sky, and the sun shone with what little power it had. Out of curiosity, Daisy and Elena had ventured out to the frozen wasteland, which offered its own type of captivating beauty.

"People who come here are crazy," Yo-yo added. The wind seemed to pierce her exposed face, shooting all the way down to her bones. She gasped for breath. "Heat I can take, but this . . ."

"It's kinda breathtaking," Daisy finished.

Yo-yo laughed. "Literally."

The whole team was glad to be back on Earth, even if just for a day or so. It was nice to see it whole again, knowing that they had done the impossible.

Coulson would have agreed.

The two agents walked slowly and meditatively toward a huge outcropping of ice. Below them stretched miles upon miles of blue-black ice, white snow, and dead, brown vegetation breaking through solid rock. Layers of uneven rock and ice shards swept up the sides of cliffs, seeming to meld into the pale blue sky

Daisy let out a visible puff of breath. "Wow."

"Okay, I take it back." Yo-yo could not tear her eyes away from the endless frozen ocean. "This is pretty cool."

They stood in silence.

Yo-yo felt a hot tear meet her cheek, causing the skin to sting. The insane beauty of the Earth swept through her like a burning flame starting in her stomach. And the sheer implications of what they had accomplished struck her with a blow. Just the joy at seeing the whole Earth in all its wonder made her realize just how fragile and thin a line they had been balancing.

"I am so glad," she managed, "I never had to live that timeline."

Daisy could only nod.

* * *

The quinjet swooped in with grace and practiced ease.

Deke and May descended the airlock ladder, both smiling as brightly as their respective personalities would allow.

Immediately, Jemma ran into her grandson's arms, the joy seeming to radiate straight from her brilliant eyes. Deke seemed a bit taken aback, but he laughed anyway.

Enthusiastic greetings were exchanged between May and the team, and Deke and, well, most of the team.

When the hubbub died down, Deke had everyone sit in the control room.

"Guys," he started, "I have good news and bad news."

Everyone groaned, and Mack insisted, "Hit us with the bad news first."

"Okay," Deke said, "the bad news is that I have no idea where Fitz is, and also that I may or may not be on a Most Wanted list in Cuba."

"Join the club," Elena commented.

"Yeah, but," Deke continued, "the good news is that I stole this map from Qovas's ship that basically shows the whole galaxy plus some, and will probably lead us straight to Fitz."

* * *

"Hey, Deke." Daisy folded her arms self-consciously, shifting her weight from heel to toe.

The man in question turned his head from the ship's mainframe where he worked on installing the map to the navigation system.

"Uh, hi . . . Daisy."

She smiled slightly. "Thanks for this."

Deke raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"All this." She swept her arm in a wide arc. "You could have stayed out, explored the Earth some more, but you . . . Well, it means a lot that you came back to help."

"Yeah, well I couldn't let my grandpa just freeze out in space and wake up when we're all old and dead." He shrugged, leaning back on his heels. "And it is nice to be back around friends."

"Funny how that changes," Daisy said, almost to herself. "You know, after you sold me. To Kasius. And I almost died." All the bitter feelings she hadn't had time to deal with came flooding back. Yes, she considered Deke a valuable member of the team, and she knew Mack trusted him now. But she couldn't help but hold a slight grudge.

"You know, you SHIELD people are so stubborn," Deke ground out, standing and crossing his arms, mimicking her. "I thought this was a 'thanks for helping us find our friend, we really appreciate you' kind of speech, but I guess some of us haven't gotten over the apocalypse future that won't even happen anymore. And for the record, I thought we were over this. I helped you, I risked my life to get you guys back, now I'm here and I finally have a family, even if it is just my grandma who's the same age as me and a grandfather who doesn't even remember me or know I exist. So I'm sorry about what I had to do in the Lighthouse, but to me, you were all strangers who were threatening the lives of the only friends I had. And-"

"Deke." Daisy stepped forward. "It's okay. We all did things we regret. It's just a sore spot. It'll be fine, and . . . I really am glad you're back."

"Me too," was all he could manage.

* * *

Jemma stared into her tea.

The morning sickness was finally fading, but it was replaced by constant, gnawing cravings that no freeze-dried food could satisfy.

She dreamed (literally) about chocolate Sacher Torte from the famous hotel in Vienna. The chocolate cake's recipe was kept under strict wraps, and only the best home cooks could remake it. The trick was to make it thick and almost fudge-like, slice it into two thin layers, and spread about a millimeter of strawberry jelly as a filling, as well as around the whole cake. Then it was covered in a thick, creamy ganache which hardened perfectly.

She would probably give her right arm for just a piece.

A form came up behind her, and a plate clinked onto the table. Upon it lay a single slice of chocolate cake. She gasped. It wasn't Sacher Torte, but she could never have imagined . . .

"For the kiddo," Mack's voice rumbled kindly behind her.

Jemma felt about ready to cry. "How did you know?"

The new Director sat across from her, grinning. "When my . . . When Hope was on the way . . . Well, let's just say for a while I was buying a lot of chocolate cake."

"Thank you." She supposed he must have bought it on their supply run in Australia, and she could not have been more grateful.

The door flung wide open, almost causing the two agents to fall over in shock.

"Okay," Daisy demanded, a funny look on her face. "Who keeps leaving lemons on my bunk?"

Mack raised his eyebrows.

"Come again?" Jemma managed around a mouthful of chocolate.

"Some genius who thinks they're funny left, like, a pile of lemons on my bed. Again."

Mack snorted.

Daisy pinned him with a glare. "Was it you?"

He raised his hands in surrender, a mischievous grin on his lips. "No, but I think I know who to talk to."

* * *

The Zephyr, while a massive, complicated, comfortable vessel, was feeling a bit small.

It was made with ten walled-in bunks, five with double beds and five with army-issued cots built into walls, much like the Lighthouse. About fifteen more stacked bunks were hidden by curtains in an out-of-the-way hall.

It was designed by Fitz to be an all-in-one mobile command station, hideout, reconnaissance vessel, quinjet-docking platform, and emergency living quarter, its best features including the famous Inhuman containment module. The water recycling system was top-notch and long-lasting, and power was generated by the engines, enough to keep lights on, take showers, and play Galaga on the command deck screen.

There was nothing it couldn't do and no situation it couldn't handle. Fitz's fingerprints showed everywhere, in the pure ingenuity and efficiency of the plane. Design influences came from the old Bus as well as the Sci-Ops building itself, which, as a project to show off his skill, he himself had upgraded.

The Zephyr was a sight to behold, and the team was proud of it.

But Deke hated it. It was too small and confined, and he felt suffocated.

It absolutely was not caused by the presence of a certain Inhuman on board. No, of course not.

And it absolutely was not because he took such a risk again.

Why did they have to buy lemons in Australia? It was almost an invitation for him to pick them up and deposit them on a certain bunk.

Granted, she still didn't know what it meant, but come on. How should he have resisted?

His crush had grown wings. Or roots, or whatever that saying was.

He leaned his chin further into his hands in despair. The map he'd installed had shown no signs of . . . Well, he didn't really know what he was looking for. He had seen Enoch's ship once at the Lighthouse when it docked on the Kree levels, but of course he hadn't memorized it.

The map was interactive and in real time. He'd been staring at it for hours now, and even though he could count to six in Kree numbers, he could not decipher these coordinates that were so vital.

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his beard.

This was useless.

It was like searching for charcoal in Processing.

Just as he stood up, the door slid open.

A figure stopped at the door frame, uncharacteristically shy. But she smiled kindly and took two steps in.

"Hello, Deke."

He stood to embrace his grandmother, the tender, childlike part of him craving some affection.

"Hey, grandma," he teased.

She grinned. "So, how do you like it back on the Zephyr?"

He grimaced. "Feels like home."

Jemma patted his shoulder. "Yeah," she added, "it's a bit claustrophobic."

Deke snorted in agreement.

Suddenly Jemma turned a bit more serious. But a bit of pink tinted her ears. "Could we sit for a moment? I want to talk to you."

If Deke had ever heard a bossy, lecturing grandma voice, this was it. "Anything bad?" he felt the need to ask.

"No! Goodness no, of course not." The pink tinge deepened. "I just thought you should know something." She took a breath. "I recently found out that I'm . . . Well, I'm expecting. And there's a very good chance - actually, I'm quite sure - that it will be your mum."

Deke couldn't speak. His mother . . . He glanced at Jemma's stomach and back. He had known this might happen, he just didn't know when, of course.

"I . . ." He finally managed. "Uh. Wow. I mean, that's really, um."

His throat felt thick, and there was a pressure behind his eyes. He quickly swiped the tears away.

Jemma furrowed her brow. "I don't want to overwhelm you."

"No, no," Deke choked out. "It's good. I'm good. I'm happy for you and . . . And Fitz." He cleared his throat. "Okay, so, also. I hooked up that map for you, but I have been staring at it and I can't quite, um, see anything."

"It's alright, I'll have a look later. Just one more thing." She leaned back in her chair and fixed her grandson with a penetrating smirk. "I think you need to speak with Daisy."

He raised his eyebrows. "Do I?"

"Deke, she has no idea what the lemons mean. Mack told me, but Daisy . . . Well, let's just say she's not quite open to the idea of . . . I mean, as charming as you are, after Lincoln . . ."

He sighed. Of course. Daisy had mentioned a Lincoln before. She'd even implied that she was still in love with him. Who did he think he was? A former scavenger and thief and liar, turned hero, was just another friend and member of the team.

"Yeah, no, I get it. The lemons were a stupid idea."

Jemma smiled. "I don't think it was a stupid idea. Just give it time. Don't rush her. You're a good man, Deke, and someday she will see that, but Lincoln died only two years ago. She still hasn't had closure."

Deke nodded.

"Also," Jemma continued, "why lemons? How did it start?"

He smiled. "You ask ten people in the Lighthouse, you get ten different answers. But actually, you guys started it. You and Fitz."

* * *

It was one of those stories he would never forget.

In the years after the Fitzsimmons family escaped to the Lighthouse, life was hard. There was enough food, thanks to the beings who built the place, but the weight of the world rested heavy on their shoulders. The people who made it to the bunker looked toward them for help, leadership, and comfort.

May and Robin did everything they could to plan out rations and fresh water supplies and living situations.

Elena rallied the people and kept the group sane, even through her own heartbreak after losing Mack so suddenly.

But Fitzsimmons . . . Their role was exponentially more taxing. Not only did they have a new daughter to raise, but the people counted on them for safety in the Lighthouse. Artificial gravity suddenly became necessary, safety from the gravity storms above was on their shoulders, and the building of the monolith machine was pressing on their minds. Without the machine, there was no hope for humanity whatsoever.

Eventually the strain of it all, especially mixed with Robin's foretelling of Jemma's death, became too much. They finished the blueprints to the best of their abilities, secured the Gravitonium, and pressurized the Lighthouse.

Then they stepped back. They changed their names and focused on raising their daughter in this apocalyptic future.

"The steps you take don't have to be big," Jemma often reminded her family, "they just have to take you in the right direction."

Their daughter began to share her parents' worry and slight negativity. Too young to fully understand, she became nervous when she caught her father sitting with his head between his hands, or her mother with her hair undone, rubbing her face.

She loved lemons. She loved to smell them and let a sour drop fall on her tongue. Her mother took water, one lemon, and two spoonfuls of precious sugar, and mixed them into three glasses.

"See, darling." Jemma smiled. "Even sour lemons can be turned into something deliciously sweet."

Fitz sat his daughter on his knee and promised to never let her go.

The next day when the Fitzsimmons women returned to their bunk, two lemons sat on the bed with a note that said, "Here's to making lemonade."

* * *

"So," Daisy began, "Mack said I should talk to you."

"Mm." Deke didn't say anything.

She hated silence. So she rambled on. "Yeah, I mean he said it had something to do with the lemons on my bed. I totally thought it was a prank or-"

"Daisy."

She sat down beside him on the bench, concerned at the sudden emotion in his voice. "Yeah?"

Deke rubbed the back of his neck. "The lemons . . . Uh, back at the Lighthouse, people would go to the market and buy some lemons and put them on their . . . Uh, they would put them on their crush's bed. Kind of just a 'hey,'" he swallowed and lifted his head to look into her eyes, "'I kinda like you.'"

Daisy raised her eyebrows, trying to make some words leave her mouth, but nothing would work. She had been told by multiple men in her lifetime that they liked her. She knew she wasn't unattractive. But she and Deke . . . It was an understatement to say they'd gotten off on the wrong foot.

He had threatened their lives at the Lighthouse, multiple times. But she could admit that the worst was over, and he really had been heroically helpful the whole time.

But romantically interested? She had never dreamed . . . No, until Deke had mentioned something after the first lemon incident, all he had been was an obnoxious tag-along, who was possibly still dangerous but who was proving his worth as a SHIELD agent.

"Uh," Daisy managed.

"I know, Jemma told me about how you wouldn't be ready and you might not take it well, and I know you're still not over Lincoln, so I'm sorry, really. I should have . . . thought before I tried to . . . Anyway, I should probably go and, um, look at that map again, because you never know where a whole spaceship might appear from, so . . ." He laughed awkwardly, then stood up.

"Hey, wait." She jumped up after him. "Don't . . . Um, don't just walk away, okay?"

To his shock, she paused, reached out, and squeezed his hand.

Then she was gone.

* * *

It was easier than they thought, finding Fitz. Enoch was not clueless, and did his best to contact them. It paid off.

As the Zephyr docked at the side of the huge vessel, Jemma felt a cold fear mix with the raw joy. She was finally seeing her husband again, but what if . . . What if he wasn't the same? Maybe pulling him out of Cryo-freeze early would damage his brain again. It was possible, but very, very unlikely.

Just breathe, she told herself.

The door opened slowly, revealing Enoch and his stoic demeanor. "Welcome," he said. "Please, come in."

The ship, while huge on the outside, was relatively small inside. There were only basic amenities for a few people, and the dark interior felt closed off and lonely. It was bare and sterile, and Jemma instantly felt uncomfortable. She laid a protective hand over her already-growing belly where her (their!) child slept.

She felt as if she walked in slow motion as she followed the Chronicom. His voice sounded distant.

"I reset the timer as soon as I received your signal," Enoch explained. "But the minimum is two weeks, so he should be waking in approximately two hours and three minutes."

Her footsteps sounded like drumbeats in her ears.

The team followed behind, allowing Jemma some space.

The hallways of the vessel wound around, pillars decorating the sides like a Roman cathedral.

She felt as if each step were a million years and every breath an eternity.

 _Just breathe._

Finally, the hallway narrowed and curved around into a small, closet-like chamber. A curved, capsule shaped pod stood in the center.

Jemma gasped.

"Here is your friend," Enoch announced. "The timer is set. I will leave you alone now. If you are in need of me, I shall be through this door."

Jemma couldn't breathe. She took tentative steps toward the pod, the protective hand absentmindedly resting on her belly.

Nearing the capsule, she peered over, into the frosted glass.

There he was. After months of grief, mourning, searching, wondering, hoping, and endless traveling, he was right here, under her fingertips.

His eyes were open, and she tried not to imagine his death again. He was alive, she reminded herself. Alive, and yet unharmed by the demons that would haunt him.

The team gathered around, and May laid a comforting hand over Jemma's shoulder.

It struck her how hard this must be for May.

Coulson didn't have a second chance. But here Jemma was, waiting to see the double version of the man she loved and lost.

May seemed to read her mind, because she gave the young scientist's shoulders a squeeze, and nodded kindly.

Jemma looked at each member of the team and smiled, tears in her eyes. "Thank you."

* * *

Two hours was a long time.

The team had left to give Fitzsimmons some privacy as the clock counted two minutes.

Jemma stood, staring at the features that were more familiar than her own.

Ice fractals lined the edges of the glass.

The clock read thirty seconds.

The moments dragged on for what seemed like hours.

She glanced at the timer, and suddenly it turned to zero. Her breath caught in her throat.

The ice faded, and a puff of steam warmed the glass. Fitz's face regained color, and the machine hissed. A gap formed at the seal, and she hurriedly pulled the top open.

Fitz gasped, the most wonderful sound Jemma could have imagined.

She couldn't contain herself any longer. "Fitz," she whispered as he sat up. He seemed very alert, as if he had been taking a short nap.

She threw herself into his arms, burying her face into his neck, barely even noticing the dampness of his shirt and skin.

"Jemma," he breathed, one arm supporting himself and the other automatically grasping her waist.

She pulled him up, into a standing position and held him close, sobbing all the while.

"How . . . How did you . . ." He couldn't form a sentence, he simply wrapped her up tightly in his arms and let her cry.

* * *

"So, it's not actually 2091?"

Fitz shivered again, pulling the blanket closer around his shoulders. The team had tried to explain the time loop and how it was finally broken, and how the world wouldn't be destroyed (that was a weight off his shoulders). But his mind was a bit foggy from the Cryo-freeze, so it took about three tries for his brain to kick in and absorb all the facts.

Jemma squeezed his elbow. "It's only five months after you were frozen."

"Okay. Yeah." He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

"Take it slow," May reminded. "It's a lot to take in."

She and Jemma shared a look. There was more. Far, far more.

But it would have to wait.

His eyes still had a spark of light in them. He was relieved, as they all were, that the world still spun and his friends were all safe.

Daisy seemed a bit on edge to him, jumping at some of his words and gripping her chair with white knuckles. The hug she'd given him was unnaturally stiff, and her greeting was whispered.

And he still didn't understand this Deke character.

After a bit longer, Jemma pulled him into a side room in the Zephyr, her usual bunk.

"Are you alright?"

The door slid shut.

"Yeah, I . . . I think so." Fitz turned in the small space to face her. "I can't tell how how . . . How long I've waited see you again." He wanted to say more, but the words wouldn't come. So he leaned forward, clasping his hands behind her back, and their lips met hurriedly, as if time would run out again.

But Jemma placed a hand on his chest, pulled away, and took a breath. "I brought you in here . . . to tell you three things, actually."

They sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the bed, and she continued.

"Fitz, when we were in the future . . . At the Lighthouse . . . You rescued us. You made it there, and we all got back through the monolith."

"Yeah, good."

Jemma sighed. "Yes. But see . . . It caused a problem in spacetime. You," she touched his shoulder, "were still up here. The person who rescued us was you, but . . . in the future."

Things began to click into place.

"So," she went on, "that you, that Fitz . . . Well, you and I were . . . We were married."

His mouth parted. "We . . . We what . . . We . . . I mean, we were?"

"Yes, but that's not all." Shaking, she tried to blink back the tears that suddenly rose. "Oh, this is so hard."

Fitz opened and closed his right hand. It shook uncontrollably, a sign of nervousness ever since his injury. "Just say it, plain and simple, okay? No beatin' around the bush."

"Alright. Well . . ." She could barely keep her voice steady. "You died. Three months ago." Her voice hitched and she clutched his good hand like a lifeline. "A building collapsed . . . Should have killed Mack instead . . . Because he didn't make it to the Lighthouse . . . But we broke the loop . . ."

By now, she was sobbing again.

He didn't know what to say. He had barely been awake for a day and could only have dreamt about whether or not his friends were even alive. And now all this information came at him at once. For one of the first times in his life, he was absolutely speechless.

She finally took a deep breath and leaned further into his side. "I don't want to put too much on you, but there is one more thing."

"Yeah?" He could barely whisper.

"Fitz . . . I'm pregnant."

He hardly registered it. The word echoed in his head.

"It's yours, of course."

He dropped his elbows to his knees, absolutely and completely overwhelmed emotionally.

And he couldn't contain it anymore. His throat tightened and the pressure behind his eyes released. Tears streamed down to his chin, and he turned to gaze at Jemma beside him.

Gathering her in his arms, he kissed her over and over, swearing to never let her go.

* * *

They woke up in each others' arms.

Jemma blinked, and reminded herself where she was when she felt Fitz's hand on her lower abdomen. The emotional strain of the day before left her exhausted. She sighed and leaned back into Fitz's chest. They had fallen asleep right after their conversation, both feeling the widest range of emotions possible. She was happy and confused and mournful, all at the same time. She wondered if it was the same for him.

The last thing she wanted to do was leave his side, but she needed space to process everything. Since the Zephyr was docked outside, maybe there would be a nice view in the command center.

She wrapped herself in an extra blanket and made sure not to wake Fitz on her way out.

The stars were beautiful.

They didn't have a broken Earth in front of them, which she believed she would always be grateful for.

She ran a hand over her abdomen, over the noticeable bump. "You'll get to see the stars," she whispered to the precious life growing inside her. "No hiding in a bunker or running from aliens. I'll take you to Sheffield first thing, and your dad will want his mum to see you as well. Scotland really is a pretty place, I suppose. Perthshire would be perfect-"

"Still dreaming about the cottage?"

Jemma wasn't surprised at Fitz's presence behind her. She merely smiled and stared through the window. "It would be better than space."

He snorted, leaning against the wall beside her and crossing his arms. "Anything would, really."

"You have no idea," she murmured.

He ran a hand through his hair. "You know, I've realized something, Jemma. He turned to catch her eyes. "The universe can't stop us."

"You finally gave up that we're cursed?"

"Yeah. You know why? Because we have crossed galaxies. You traveled through time, and we survived the bottom of the Atlantic just so we could be together. Now, a love like that, that is stronger than any curse. We are unstoppable together."

Her chin trembled as she reached out to grasp his arm.

"And," he continued, "it doesn't matter what happened before this or what I did, because I'm here, now, and we defied all odds. We defied death and time itself, and now you're back . . . I'm back with you. And I never, never want to lose you again. So-"

He took her hands, and lowered himself to rest on one knee, an irresistible warmth and devotion in his eyes.

"Jemma Simmons, will you marry me?"

* * *

Deke couldn't sleep. They had been flying back to Earth for three days, and he couldn't forget about everything that had happened.

Fitz didn't remember him, and Deke hadn't said anything about being related yet. Jemma encouraged the team quietly to not load him up with any more information.

The news of Fitzsimmons' engagement swept the plane and brought the few people on it to happy tears. Everything had come full circle after so long.

Deke was so happy for them. His existence didn't rest on their shoulders anymore, thanks to the multiverse theory, but he had bonded with them, including Fitz in his own way. From what he had heard about Fitzsimmons' lives, they really did deserve a happily ever after.

Even all the daydreaming in the world couldn't put Deke back to sleep.

He crept barefoot down the hallways of the Zephyr, toward the tiny kitchenette area. Maybe some tea would help. He had discovered tea only a few weeks ago when May, out of a strange, new, kind streak toward him, sat him down with a cup of tea and explained what happened so he wouldn't be blindsided by the team.

He set a pot of water on the stove to boil and scrounged up a mug and a tea bag.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Deke spun around, startled for the first time in a while.

Daisy stood in the doorway, arms folded. Deke noticed she had found an old, loose sweater which hung off her bare shoulders . . .

He stared at his mug.

"Yeah, when you get used to fresh air, space isn't very fun anymore."

She smiled knowingly and gestured in his vague direction. "I guess the universe wants us to talk."

They always ended up together, alone, somehow. "Yeah."

"So," Daisy began. "I've been thinking."

That was never a good thing. He poured the boiling water over his tea bag, too drowsy to care about some splashing onto the counter top.

"A lot has happened," she admitted. "When I told you about . . . Lincoln, it was a dark time." She wandered to one of four tiny chairs in the room, fixed around a table. "I thought half my friends were going to die, and one had already betrayed me. I thought Lincoln was all I had to hold on to."

"Daisy, if this is an apology for loving someone else, I don't want-"

"No, just listen." She let the sweater slide over her hands, her fingers peeking out the long sleeves. "I haven't had good luck with guys. My first long-term boyfriend bailed because I joined SHIELD. Then my crush turned out to be a Nazi. Then my serious boyfriend died by sacrificing himself for me. So I kind of distanced myself. Or I still do, I guess. It's just never worth the heartache anymore. So I'm sorry if I seem . . . clueless. I'm not, I promise. I get it. And I'm not saying the feelings are . . . mutual. I just don't want you to think that I'm this cold-hearted . . . monster or hard-ass or whatever. We've all been through a lot and we're all dealing with it differently. I don't have anyone to lean on like the others do, so I've learned to be kind of a one-woman show. I'm getting used to working with other people again." She stared at the table. "Am I making any sense?"

Deke smiled as kindly as he could and tentatively touched her fingers. "Yeah, you are. And it's totally . . . I mean, you don't have to apologize for anything. I get it, one hundred percent. And if you ever need to talk or . . . get something out of your system . . . Well, I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon."

Daisy's bright, sincere smile lit up the whole room. "Thank you."

* * *

SHIELD was rebuilding.

Much of the team thought the day would never come when the organization wouldn't have to work from the shadows. The idea seemed so far-away and unreachable. But with Mack in the new Director position, things began to unravel, rewind, line up, and come together. They still stayed at the Lighthouse. It was only logical. But with each passing day, it began to feel less like an apocalypse-ready escape bunker and more like the functional, almost home-like bases they knew.

Fitzsimmons spent one month at the Lighthouse before taking a very much needed trip to see their parents.

"I don't think you should fly," Fitz cautioned, "after all the space travel you've done. You have barely adjusted."

Jemma insisted that, as a doctor and a soon-to-be mother, she could very well decide for herself whether or not she was fit to fly. But she appreciated his concern.

The transition from Cryo-freeze back to normal life had, surprisingly, taken far less time than Jemma had anticipated. Fitz was doing marvelously, both emotionally and physically. The moment they reached Earth, May had contacted one of Andrew's old friends from his psychiatry office and Davis flew him privately down. Each team member was required by Mack (who included himself) to take five two-hour sessions over the course of two weeks. The doctor, Henry Toole, would then decide who required further treatment. Fitz was on that list, to no one's surprise.

But he was improving by leaps and bounds, and as Doctor Toole didn't believe in immediate medication, Fitz was able to recover on his own time, consciously.

Jemma was so proud of him.

They almost had a semblance of normalcy in the Lighthouse for a few weeks, and life was good. Her morning sickness had vanished, and all that was left was a bit of fatigue. She was still a bit too early for the backaches to be crippling, and every fetal scan they performed showed nothing but positive results.

As her phone continued to ring, and she continued to ignore it, her mind became more and more set on what had to be done.

Fitz finally relented, tempted by the prospect of seeing his mother again, and within three days, a quinjet with May as the loyal pilot took off and made a beeline for Sheffield, England.

A week later, they flew the team out to gather in a tiny white church nestled in the rolling hills of Scotland.

* * *

"Fitz," Jemma began. Her voice nearly cracked already, as she blinked back the dampness in her eyes and clutched the piece of paper. "I have loved you from the moment I saw you. We started out as two young people who had no idea where life would take them, or that they would be drawn together again and again and again. You have been my hope in the hopeless, my light in the dark, and my joy when I had none. You have stood with me through every trial the universe has thrown our way, and I could never imagine my life without you. I will love you through the farthest distance and the longest time. And my love for you only grows stronger with every day and every moment."

Daisy glanced around her, willing herself not to cry.

She glimpsed Jemma's parents in the front row, proud and loving.

Fitz's mother clutched her handkerchief, her eyes red and her face beaming.

Fitz himself seemed to be choking back tears as he stood, beaming, in his traditional green kilt. Deke stood behind him, then Mack, then Lance Hunter. The news about Deke's heritage had stunned Fitz, but it was not much stranger than everything else he had heard. The two instantly bonded again, as if Fitz had never left.

And Enoch had contacted Hunter and Bobbi just in time for this occasion.

Daisy shifted on her feet, enjoying the rustling green fabric around her ankles.

"I've been thinking about what to say." Fitz laughed nervously, glancing at the far wall. "Words don't really . . . seem enough." He took a deep breath and gazed into Jemma's eyes. "I can never show you all my love, because I don't . . . completely understand it. I think that you are perfect. You have been my best friend, my partner, my companion, and I will never deserve you. I don't deserve you, Jemma. And I will never leave you again . . . no matter what."

The priest called for the rings, and after both bride and groom swore to love each other for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death did them part

And just like that day in the forest all those months ago, Fitzsimmons were pronounced husband and wife.

When they kissed, there was not a dry eye in the chapel, nor a still hand, nor a frowning face.

Because this time, it wasn't simply a symbol. It wasn't a routine to boost the team's spirits. And the world wasn't crashing down around them.

Fitz and Simmons, who had been through more than the whole team could imagine, had come out stronger than before and even more devoted to each other than Daisy could have believed. And now they were making their commitment public, in the presence of all the people they held dear, and it was somehow only sweetened by the news of their baby.

One tear ran down Daisy's cheek, and she blinked hard, wiping it with a finger.

Mr. and Mrs. Fitzsimmons made their way down the aisle, arms linked and faces more joyful than Daisy had ever seen before.

As she followed them, all her misgivings about Fitz's character and inner demons disappeared. They deserved a happy ending, more than anyone else in the world. And she would damn well make sure they got it.

* * *

Jemma sighed, the summer breeze ghosting across her face.

After so many years in various underground bunkers or small, enclosed spaces, the feeling of wind and sun was something she would never tire of.

"Jemma!"

She turned her head, removing her hands from the dirt and peeling off her gloves. A figure made its way toward her, arms clutching a squirming bundle. She stood, still smiling, and stretched her head backward, ridding her neck of the tenseness.

"I think she's hungry," Fitz explained, coming to a halt beside her and dropping a kiss on her temple. "Just woke up, screaming her little lungs out."

Jemma opened her arms and welcomed her tiny daughter into them. "There are some things a father can't provide." She cradled the infant close to her. "Isn't that right, darling?" The baby only whimpered, nuzzling her face into her mother's neck. "Not even the very best one."

Fitz smiled, almost shyly.

Fatherhood had suited him so well, Jemma wondered why she hadn't seen the traits all along. He had always been sensitive, but the nurturing side of him was completely new to her. And she would forever be grateful for that discovery, because he agreed with her wholeheartedly about one of the most life-changing decisions they'd ever made. (Next to beginning field work, of course.)

The moment that Margaret Skye Fitzsimmons made her entrance into the world, the couple knew where they needed to be. When little Peggy was only three weeks old, Fitz and Jemma packed their belongings into a quinjet, exchanged bittersweet farewells and see-you-laters with the team, then May flew them across the Atlantic again, to the tiny, comfortable cottage they had bought before their wedding.

"I don't see the need to go indoors," Jemma mentioned. It was far too beautiful a day, so she and Fitz settled themselves on the soft green grass, gazing out at the warm Perthshire countryside.

"Deke wants to visit soon," Fitz said absently.

"Oh?" Jemma settled Margaret down to nurse, marveling as a new mother at how vigorously her daughter ate and how purely natural it was.

"Yeah, he said something about getting away for a bit. He's bringing Daisy, too."

Her eyebrows shot skyward. "Really?" Her mouth formed a conspiratorial grin. Daisy had just visited last week, stopping by for a few days on her way back from a peace mission in Belgium. She and Fitz spent half the time in the shed he'd modified into a lab. Daisy helped set up the newly-created SHIELD system and protocols that Mack had her design after all the damage done to the old system by herself and AIDA.

Fitz and Jemma had agreed to stay on as consulting reserves, operating out of Scotland as much as possible, hence the huge shed in their backyard.

Daisy's trip had been productive, and as much fun she had with her honorary niece, she had stressed that she could never stay away from the Lighthouse for too long. Mack needed her.

And yet she was going pond-hopping with the Fitzsimons' adult (and single) grandson.

"Are they both using all their vacation time at once?" Jemma wondered.

"No idea." Fitz leaned back on his hands, feet stretched out before him. "He just said that they had been planning a trip to Austria to see the Alps."

Her grin became wider. "Interesting."

Fitz pointed at her, also smirking. "Now Jemma, I know that look. Don't try anything when they're here. They might just be happening to travel together because they both want to see the same things."

"Perhaps," she allowed, not believing him at all, and shifting her attention to the little girl in her arms.

* * *

"Soon" was apparently almost a month later, when Peggy was just beginning to sit up.

Their arrival was joyous and a welcomed occurrence. Deke brought a board book for Peggy, about forests and wildlife. And Daisy had, by some work of magic, procured a pair of tiny, baby-sized SHIELD combat boots, and a onesie with the words, "you think I'm pretty? You should see my aunt!"

Fitz rolled his eyes at the onesie.

While Daisy cooed over Peggy, and Fitz ran out to the shed to show her his latest designs, Deke pulled Jemma aside.

"Could you run some tests on me?" he asked quietly.

Jemma wrinkled her brow. "What for?"

"I . . . Uh, back at the Lighthouse . . . in the future . . . All we ate was sterilization pellets. They're very efficient. I just want to know if the effect . . . lasted after I stopped eating them."

"Ah. Yes." She nodded. "It would depend on what chemical was in them, but I can surely take a look." Fixing him with an inquisitive look, she said, "If I could ask, does this have anything to do with Daisy?"

Fitz would be proud of her subtlety.

Deke instantly turned the shade of a ripe tomato. "Grandma!" he scolded, eyes bugging out. Like grandfather, like grandson.

She smiled. "It's alright. Are you two . . .?"

"Uh. Well, kinda." He shifted his weight. "Yeah I guess . . ." Glancing to his left, the sight that met him kept his eyes fixed.

Daisy, waiting for Fitz to return from the shed, had taken possession of Peggy and settled herself on the floor against the sofa, holding the baby in the crook of her arm and bouncing a stuffed monkey around in front of her. Peggy laughed, delighted, waving her arms and holding up her head to see the animal's antics.

Deke swallowed, and Jemma smiled knowingly at him. "Love is a strange thing." She laid a hand on his elbow. "Come to the shed and we'll run those tests."

* * *

Deke could not smile any brighter.

The stars shone, twinkling in the sky. He could pick out a few constellations, but he just loved to stare at them. No rocks floated in front of them, and they were just familiar enough to be comforting. The breeze rustled through his hair as Daisy laughed at the joke he'd just made.

Fitz rolled his eyes and Jemma slapped Deke's arm.

He reached for his mug of tea, chortling all the while. His friends' faces were softly illuminated by the fire, and he relished for the thousandth time the pure freedom of not having a possible death sentence hanging over his head.

"Shame you have to leave tomorrow," Jemma commented after the groans and laughter died down. "It's so nice to have you around."

Deke and Daisy shared a look. "We might stop by on the way back." Daisy pulled her hood down tighter around her ears. "Or you guys could come visit the Lighthouse. Everyone misses you."

"I do want to oversee production on those new quinjets," Fitz agreed.

They hadn't been back to the Lighthouse since they moved to the cottage.

"I would like that." Jemma smiled and nodded.

* * *

Deke's results were negative. None of the chemicals from the sterilization pellets remained in his bloodstream. Chances were very high that he would be just fine, and able to procreate. The smile that he displayed warmed Jemma's heart.

When he and Daisy took off the next day, Peggy waved her arms wildly at the quinjet. Fitz held her tightly, and he and his wife stood on the back step, their daughter laughing and squealing at the huge black machine that disappeared into the clouds.

"I do hope they have a nice holiday . . . goodness knows they deserve it."

Fitz grunted in agreement.

Jemma took his hand and they shared a smile. "Are you happy here?" she wondered. "With all this?"

"Of course." He brought her hand up to kiss it. "I could never have asked for more. You, Peggy . . ." He paused and blinked hard, resting his cheek on his daughter's soft, curly hair. "I know I am the luckiest man . . . on any planet."

* * *

.

.

 _fin_


End file.
